Mistletoe Misdemeanors
by FountainOfPens
Summary: For my friend Marlena.  Hermione is roped into spreading some Christmas cheer, and has her feelings about one Draco Malfoy questioned... D/Hr


Hermione Granger was a very busy girl. She had just been appointed Head Girl, and besides the duties that entailed, she needed to study for the all-important N.E.W.T.s. So when the other prefects and Head Boy Terry Boot had suggested they all hang magical mistletoe about the school, Hermione nearly suffocated laughing. "Are you serious? Don't you all have something better to do?" was her surprised response.

Terry raised an eyebrow. "Yes. But it's nice, you know. And after the war, I think people need a bit of cheering up."

"So… you want to cheer them up by having them trapped under the mistletoe with people they would otherwise have nothing to do with?"

"Yeah," Terry said with a grin. "If it's not amusing for them, it will be for the rest of us."

Magical mistletoe was a poor excuse for a holiday prank, in Hermione's opinion. It forced anyone who came within a five-foot radius of it to stay under there until it trapped another person, whom they had to kiss to escape. It was resistant to pretty much any spell that would allow a person to escape, and since one couldn't Apparate on the Hogwarts grounds anyway, you could be trapped there for a while.

"Anyway, it would give people an excuse to be late to class," drawled Draco Malfoy. For some reason, Hermione suspected as a conciliatory gesture, McGonagall had let him keep his prefect status after the war. During the first few weeks he had been strangely quiet, and Hermione had quite frankly liked it that way. Now that he was apparently comfortable again, he seemed to be attempting to slowly drive her insane. "Not that you'd want that, Granger. Since you _care_ about education and all."

She whirled on him. "Yes, Malfoy, as a matter of fact, I do care about education. And I think that what you just said proves that this is a doubly stupid idea."

"Aw, come on, Granger. What could it hurt? Your pride?" Malfoy asked, smirking. "Afraid you'll be tempted away from your sorry excuse for a boyfriend?"

Incensed, Hermione drew her wand and growled, "That's it, Malfoy, you've gone too far! Ron is ten times the man you are!"

"Guys, guys," Terry said, putting a careful hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Draco, stop baiting her. Hermione, don't let him get to you."

Still glowering at Malfoy, Hermione sheathed her wand.

"Anyway, let's take a vote on this mistletoe idea. All in favor, raise a hand."

Hermione looked about the room, astonished. Everyone's hand—including Malfoy's—was up, except for hers.

"And all agai—"

"No, it's all right, Terry." She sighed. "I know when I'm beaten. Magical mistletoe it is."

To her great dismay, there were actually cheers from her fellow prefects. She sighed. _It's going to be a long week._

#

Hermione spent an irritable, Hogsmeade-less Saturday attempting to spread Christmas cheer. It turned out that magical mistletoe was the devil to set up, seeing as it required a lot of delicate spellwork, and you had to be careful to step out of range once you were done, for fear of being caught in it right away. Hermione managed to avoid it all day, but only just.

She didn't feel particularly cheerful when she finished; just relieved. She wished Ron were with her. But he had wanted to start his Auror training so badly, and he was probably right that Hogwarts didn't have much more to teach him…

She became so absorbed in her thoughts that she failed to notice the red berries and green leaves up ahead. She didn't hear the urgent voice yelling, "Granger! Granger, don't—"

As soon as she stepped in range, she felt a change in the air. She frowned and tried to step forward—and smacked straight into a magical wall. "What the—?" she asked, rubbing her smarting nose. "What was—"

And then she saw it. The gleaming berries, the elegantly trailing, deep green leaves. She fell to her knees. "Oh, _no_. Please, Merlin, no."

"_Welcome, student! You have just stepped into the range of a magical mistletoe!_" said a cheery voice. The magical mistletoe came with a recording that explained what had happened to the unsuspecting student. In this case, her. Hermione's head began to pound. "_You will be trapped here until your prince or princess comes to save you with a yuletide kiss! Don't try to cast escape spells—the magical wall you are encased inside will resist them all! Have a happy holiday!_"

She held her head in her hands. "How could this possibly get any worse? How could I have been so stupid?"

"Don't know, Granger. Born that way?" came a snarky voice.

Hermione's head jerked up. "Malfoy?" She turned and there he was, standing right beneath the offending plant. "Where did you come from?"

"I've been trapped here for a full half hour. I tried to warn you, but of course you didn't pay attention." He sniffed. "And now, of course, we're stuck."

"But wait… so to get out of here…" she stared up at him in horror. His ferret face, his blond hair, the sneer. She would have to _kiss_… No. There must be another way.

"Unless you've got a better idea. Which I suspect you don't, since I'm more devious than you and I've been here for a half hour and haven't thought of a thing."

Hermione snorted. "Well, it's not as if _you_ think."

"Well, I don't see what you're so upset about. This is pretty much your only chance to see what a _real_ kiss is like."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I know what a real kiss is like, Malfoy. I have a boyfriend."

Malfoy snorted. "Oh come on, Hermione, I see how he slobbers all over you like the dog that he is."

"He is _not_ a dog. Why are you so obsessed with insulting my boyfriend, anyway?" Hermione was standing now, glaring, arms crossed over her chest.

Malfoy snickered. "Because it pisses you off so much. Which is because you know I'm right."

"Ronald is the best boyfriend a woman could ask for!"

"Then why isn't he here with you?"

That one struck home. Hermione closed her eyes. "Because he needed to start Auror training. They offered him a spot in the advanced group, but he needed to take it now. They wouldn't let him go next year."

"I see. So this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Whereas you—he'll have years to spend with you, right? You'll have his ginger kids and everything?" Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest too, wearing that insufferable smirk. "He doesn't need to spend time with you."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy. You don't know what it's like to love someone, to be willing to make sacrifices for them!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I know what it's like to love someone. That's exactly why I'm telling you this, Hermione."

"What do you—"

"Anyway, we need to get out of here." Malfoy cut her off. "So you decide: are we going to spend another half hour arguing, or are we just going to get this over with and escape?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow of her own. "Eager, aren't we, Malfoy?"

"Eager to get the hell out." But he looked less sure, and there wasn't quite enough bite to his words.

"Are you?"

"What kind of a stupid question is—"

"Why do you look so nervous, Malfoy?" Hermione's eyes gleamed. Finally, she was hurting him the way he hurt her. "Afraid _you'll_ find out what a real kiss is like?"

"I'm not nervous, Granger. I just want to get out of here." He pulled her roughly to him. "And I'm sick of waiting around."

Before Hermione could react, his lips were on hers, rough and angry. But instead of shoving her away again the minute the skins of their lips were in contact, Malfoy made a low noise in his throat and tilted his head, bringing them closer. Hermione was too busy panicking to move away. _This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong, this is…_ and then his tongue scraped over her lower lip, and it was like he'd flipped a switch in her that turned her from the staid, studious, serious Hermione who loved Ron to this wildwoman who moaned in his mouth and pulled him closer.

They kissed for a long, confused few minutes of tongues and hands in hair until they both needed air. Malfoy was staring at her, wide-eyed, and she at him, equally surprised and… something else.

"We're free," she breathed.

Draco—because that's what his name was now, and would be for a long time hence—frowned slightly, staring at the floor. When his eyes met hers again, they were lit mischievously. He grabbed her arm, jerked them out of the mistletoe's range, and then pulled her back in with him, folded comfortably in his pale arms. "No," he whispered against her mouth, flush with his but not quite touching. "We're not. Looks like we'll have to do it again."

A wave of heat shuddered through Hermione, a heat she'd never felt with Ron, as she said, "What a shame."

And that was how Hermione came to the conclusion that magical mistletoe was a very good invention indeed.


End file.
